Wydri, and the Old Magic
by Jesslh
Summary: Before the first wizard, there were the Wydri. These women have always been here, their use of Old Magic was subtle. Unfortunately, in modern times they had become a relic. Then Harry Potter was born. A beautiful woman, both powerful and strange noticed him. And in saving him inadvertently sent him back in time.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note**

In this story the witches and wizards from the books started existing shortly after Merlin.  
In this chapter the wydri, or witches from before Merlin are introduced.

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**They were no longer needed. **Modern medicine and wizardry whirled through the world like a violent storm. There were many casualties, and the place they once held in the people's hearts had disappeared.

Still, they did what they could and soon their name was stolen as well.

A wydri has to be careful, a wydri has to be clever, a wydri knows which way the wind blows. A talented wydri rarely needs to use magic at all. Magic is used subtly and sparingly.

For a long time her title was Witch, but the wizards have taken that title for their own.

**Healer, Fortune teller, Gypsy, Witch Doctor**

These were the paths she blended into.

**Enchantress, Demon, Sorceress, Succubus**

Fancy titles for someone who let the Eldritch power go to their head.

Names had power, words had power. So, it stands to reason so do titles. The true name of what they are is whispered, and never pinned down.

Elder Wydri' have always been on earth and they most likely will see it to the end. Wydri were good at those.

_Beginnings. Endings. _

They did not disturb the bigger picture, because it was the ordinary people. It was these ordinary, plain, muggles who needed them the most. Even the witches and wizards would not notice them; these wand-waving impressive men and women. They were so glaringly obvious. That was not magic, that was sorcery. A new magic that was strangely alike, yet completely different from theirs.

They would pay the new magic wielders no mind, and they truly should have. If they had perhaps they would still be respected like in the years of old. Not that they craved respect or power.

Either way they would pretend not to notice sorcery, and these fledgling witches and wizards would never see them. The dusty, well-worn clothes they wore, made it too easy to fade slowly into the background.

In the years before the Modern Era, it was the muggles who knew them in the villages and tribes across the world.

When a wydri reached a certain age. Her light sun-kissed days has come to an end and she has become what she needed to be. She was expected to wear dusk.

For it was the black-clad woman was who you called when the pain of death approaches. She would come to your house and sit with you. She would take away your pain, because this was a time to use magic. She would see Death arrive and greet him with a smile and stay with you to make sure your soul crossed over. The wydri saw through illusion, lies, she saw truth and noticed the small details. People miss the small details other people miss and they were never above a little psychology and slightly underhanded tricks.

Why use magical** power**? When you could give people something to **believe** in.

A village was being poisoned by water from a well, for matters of this kind they would as the witch. The black-clad lady would tell the man that an evil imp had cursed the water of their well. They would have to find a new source of water. In those times, not a single person would believe that the tiny living creatures were causing the ailment. There was no reason to use magic. Besides, the villagers could use the exercise digging. The last bountiful harvest had resulted in some slacking around.

A black-clad woman would never ask for money. In fact, offering money would be insulting to her. She made by though, a potion here and there, curing livestock, tending to the ill. It was never forgotten that these were her villagers, no matter how careless and stupid they could be. In turn a good sized portion of deer might find its way into her hut. A potion discreetly passed to a young troubled girl, and when that girl had become a woman. Every harvest that came the wydri would find a large sack of onions from the woman's crops.

It was never meant to be prestigious and you could not become a wydri. You had to be born one. Magic would choose a special female child from a muggle village and in time a teaching wydri would take her under her wings. There was never more witches then needed that was the way it was. She would teach her about magic, psychology, birthing, herbs, getting by, and Death. She was taught never to let herself get ensnared by power. Magic did not always bode well. Back then magic was unharnessed and did not like being controlled.

Magic was strong and a few wydri would fall and become what they dreaded. That is why wydri visit each other, test each other, and trick one another. It is important to watch so that no one would go down the alluring path. If they did, indeed there would be a reckoning.

Things would have to run it's course, and the foolish wydri who had gone wrong would be slain. Be it the witches and wizards or be it the muggles, the affected woman would never be saved. The powerful wydri who delves too far and lets the whispers begin to control her.

When power collects it is never certain who else might be listening. Watching and waiting for a chance to slip into our dimension. Creatures strange and unknown. Strong magic has a price. It is said for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. That is why they could never cheat Death, because for every life saved there would also be a death. It was making change with small things.

Once in a while though, a wydri would have to use every bit of magic they had. To keep the dimensions in order. Once again saving humankind and then fading into the background.

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**Spring 1926**

_"The greatest gift of we blessed be, are the itchings we feel on our feet. A wydri knows when the coals have settled enough to step on" _

Anonymous  
Quote found in a Elder's journal in the 1700's

A lady with an amiable expression, but piercing all-knowing eyes sits in a small cottage in a remote village in England. Elder Beth Moore or Shepherd Moore as she is more commonly known around town, is frightened. A wandering wydri for most her life, Elder Moore had found a village that needed her. She loved her villagers. Yes, she called them hers. She had helped the birthing of most of the people and would sit with them by their deathbeds.

Elder Moore was one of the best wydri in England. It is common with for her kind to be exceptionally strong in a few or one of the talents. Elder Moore made the most accurate and detailed shambles. Making a shamble was one of the easier skills learned in magic. It was a light skill that many wydri had neither the patience nor knack for it.

But Beth had patience in spades, and her mind was as sharp as a knife. On every other week Beth would practice making a shamble. _Can't let this mind idle, idling only leads to trouble_, She would tell herself. Although, she knew it was her paranoia. The formula for a shamble is different each time it is something to hold, bits of meaning, and something alive. Beth was never without a robin's egg or insect in a matchbox, pieces of string, and things she 'acquired'. She justified her 'acquisitions' with a clear code in min, '_It isn't stealing when no one will miss it, a nail is not going to set Mr. Drewsworth back a penny.' _She reminded herself

Exhibiting the ease of many years of practice Beth tied the string to the nick knacks in a circle around the egg. Then quickly pulled like in a game of 'cat's cradle'. She stared at the drooping web and the egg began to spin suspended in the web. _'Right then, Isn't that nice, Mr. Walker is going to have that boy soon, wait... something is wrong'_ Beth hoped she had made some sort of mistake. The pin passed right through a string and a hairclip was popping in and out of existence. Peering at the shamble she saw a boy, and then a castle. Images of present and future flashed before her eyes. Her eyes widened and knocked over chair when the shamble exploded. She had never seen this reaction before and she had never seen so much. _'Dare I step out of the shadows?' _Beth mused, '_This is not a wydri's job, this sort of thing shouldn't happen.'_

Beth muttered to herself, "It is all wrong, he is in the wrong place, wrong time, he should not be… is this in the plan?"

_'Watch over me Small Gods or we both shall be forgotten'_, Beth thought and packed her worldly possessions. Her entire life fit in a small suitcase filled with three changes of black clothes. '_A wydri is sensible to the core._' Beth reminded herself she paused and then thought to herself, '_It really would not harm anyone to take the time to pack some hard cheese, meat, and bread. Perhaps I'll drop over to the butchers. His son owes me a favour_.'

After haggling the butcher into exchanging one ball of wool for several slabs of dried meat. Beth knew what she should do. She waited patiently for John Walker to return to the stables. Thanking Mr. Walker and promising to return the horse, she began the long journey to London.

Wool's Orphanage to be precise.

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Lily Evans approached a small shop that she had never seen before in Hogsmeade she felt a strong compulsion to enter it. The store had no sign and when you tried to look at it you eyes would pass over it. '_There is a shop in front of you, There IS a shop in front of you_.' she thought repeating the chant in her head. A small bell rang over the door as she stepped inside the store

Lily was could not help thinking, '_What a beautiful lady, she looks like a Queen but she is sitting here. Wearing a simple pair of robes? Maybe, that is what makes her more striking.' _The woman was pale, but held a sort of glow. She had cascading waves of silver hair that only enhanced her charm. With a bit of jealousy, '_Her eyes shine a brighter green then mine.' _Lily realized that she was staring and stepped backwards. The woman said in a soothing and silvern voice, "I am Marie, and we have been waiting for you." Her voice was that of thousand soprano voices chiming at once. "What do you sell here?" asked Lily, her eyes glancing around suspiciously. _One could never be too safe, _thought Lily,_ 'It looks like a library, the kind I dream about, but so many things were wrong. Not quite right… The titles were all the same… The books in perfect order and size… everything looked in place… it was so quiet…' _What was most troubling was the feeling she got. It was unexplainable, as though the room was not really there and she was standing at the edge of a cliff.

Marie said in a sweet voice, "One day you will remember what I have told you. I think you will thank me."

Marie laughed and it was like beautiful bells ringing in the almost perfect mimicry of laughter.

Lily turned around and sighed with relief when she found the door unlocked. She fully intended to get out of this strange place.

Marie said softly, "Lily Evans, it is about James Potter. It is of a most important matter. Please just listen to me. This place will be gone once you don't need it."

"It's wrong. This place, this place is wrong. It is either Dark Magic or something worse and I am not interested in anything you have here." Lily stated.

The lady was in front of the door faster than a blink of the eye. "I really thought you liked books... No matter. Don't you want to know how to save your son? I thought you would like to know. This is not magic like you know it...We can bend fate and trick Death too! When the Oracle tells the prophecy and the end is so close Magic is going to help you!" Marie beamed at Lily, but when Lily looked at her eyes and she glanced away.

She did not know how, but the way this woman said words made them _sound_ capitalized.

Lily now knew the lady was crazy.

Marie said quickly, "He will be the first of his kind. Your wizards will persecute him from childhood to adulthood. We … I can make it better. All you need to remember is one thing. Remember it. I can trap it in your mind. I am sorry about this, but it will be for the best. You will see." She placed her hands on Lily's shoulders and bent down.

She whispered three words into Lily's ear and let her go. Lily dashed outside of the store, and ignored a sense of weight around her neck. She paused. Then turned around to see her friends, and she waved happily and rushed to join them. The strange store and frighteningly beautiful lady was forgotten.

**A wydri is always a girl. That was a rule. Harry Potter will do many impossible things.**

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October 31, 1981.

Lily, now Lady Potter, had never believed in Divination or in seeing the future. Every time the damned prophecy passed her mind she remembered the strange lady and her shop. As the days passed and she thought more about the strange beautiful woman and wondered what those words meant. She had not noticed the weight around on her neck grow heavier and the simple silver chain necklace that appeared. It seemed as though she had always worn it. No one had her asked about it, it was only a simple necklace.

Harry would pull at it sometimes, and everyone would laugh. And it was just as easily forgotten once more.

When they had a boy, Lily began to wonder about the strange woman. But she would push it to the back of her mind. Then Dumbledore told her and James about the prophecy. They hid for as long as they could. Today, the Death Eaters found them and that meant they had been betrayed. She obeyed James and tried to escape, but it was too late. Certain of her own demise Lily grasped Harry tightly and ran to the nursery. She looked at her boy for the last time. Lily placed a kiss on his forehead and spoke those three ancient and strange words.

She started when the beautiful lady appeared and asked her a question. Lily was also surprised when Voldemort did not see Marie. Dusky blue eyes looked into emerald green eyes and Lily nodded so slightly it was nearly imperceptible.

When Lily sacrificed herself for her son, Marie saw the Death swing his scythe and watched Lily Evan's soul go through a black hole into a desert that leaded to her Afterlife. She smiled and uttered false promises and half-truths. It was true that she would find something beyond the desert. It was not true that her son would ever see her or know of her.

Time stopped.

Death frowned at Marie. "IT IS HIS TIME," he intoned with a solemn voice. He held up the beautiful hourglass that said **Harry Potter** and pointed a bony hand at the almost empty top half and the miniscule amount on the bottom. Marie intoned in a cheerful voice that had undertones of steel, "He is just like me. I will take care of him. If you do not leave him I will steal him."

Death said in a deep solemn voice, "THIS TIME, HOW ABOUT WE PLAY FOR IT? ONE YEAR TAKEN FROM YOUR LIFE ADDED TO HIS." The bones rattled behind the black robes and the tall grim reaper's eyes glowed. The ancient being after being around humans so long, he was shaped into what they expected. It was not foreseen that a human shaped being like Death could try to act human. He had grown accustomed to Marie's ways and it was custom that she would be offered the wager.

So the two played a forgotten game of strange shaped stones that was both strategy and luck. While the world stopped, Old Magic tipped the scales in Harry's favour. Marie smirked wickedly as her final piece had ended the game.

Death shrugged, he could not see the future, but he would play his part in her little games. Death is patient and he knew he would see Harry Potter again. Next year. He waved a bony hand and one tenth of the top of the hourglass was filled. Then he was gone.

Time commenced

Marie would stay and watch for a bit, she liked Tom. There was no reason wasting energy on something fated. She never intended to truly save Harry. She expected the boy to die, and for her to be his saving grace. She would give him a year of her life and then they could escape.

She watched Voldemort looked at the boy, he wondered briefly if children were always that strangely quiet. He should have questioned why Harry was looking slightly to the left of him.

He uttered the curse, "_Avada Kedavra" _Green lightning struck the boy, but something had gone wrong on the way.

The tiny child saw the red haired one fall. Then with intelligence far beyond him, he decided that he wanted to see the other lady. Harry performed his first bit of sorcery at the most inconvenient time.

Marie was pulled like toy directly in front of the crib. She would be hit if she did not do something immediately. The ancient lady turned around and defended herself with shield of magic. The curse bounced of the shield and killed Voldemort, leaving a fragment of a soul floating. With ease Marie grasped the struggling piece in her hand. The phantom made of black smoke was once a most entertaining human.

Blue eyes peered at the smoke and wheels turned in her mind. On one hand she favoured Tom, but on the other hand she wanted Harry more. She almost beamed at her cleverness. There was one thing that she could try and do. She murmured in a voice imbued with Old magic, "_I send you back to when you were whole."_

Marie considered her job done and she released the soul. Tom Riddle had been told to go back to when it was 'whole'. It had not been whole in a long time. This piece saw Harry and his shining soul and decided that is where it wanted to be. It was not evil nor good it just wished to be a part of something.

Marie shrieked at the moment she realized where Tom's soul had gone. She viciously tried to rip it out of him, but that sort of healing was below her. In truth, she had forgotten how. All her efforts resulted in was for the piece of soul to strike back at her. Fire caught on her sleeve and one of her beautiful hands was burned. This action unintentionally marked Harry with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Very mad, and frustrated. She had been waiting so long for Harry and now he was going to be taken away. He would never be truly hers to take if he had a piece of soul keeping him on this plane. This plane… dimensions brought up old memories locked deep in her mind.

She remembered wydri, the wydri of old, and although she despised them. She knew they could heal Harry, but they would need Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort, but the purest form of Tom Riddle. So summoning as much Magic into as she could, she pictured Tom when she had first saw his shining soul. Then sent Harry to that place. The wydri would fix this and Marie would pull the strings to make sure it happened.

She was placated a bit, by the damage Voldemort caused. While admiring the Mark floating above the house, she felt it was missing something. It hit her. She waved her hand turning the house to dust and she felt a little better. Then as quietly as she appeared, she faded into nothing.

There is a dimension where no living thing existed, it is trapped in a time loop, and in the middle of flat colourless land. A dark house stands in the middle that looks like… a cottage? Grey roses, a black picket fence, and an actual lawn gnome also in black and white. Inside this house there is a skeleton with a scythe tapping on hourglasses as he passes them on the never ending shelves.

Death was feeling bored. Even Marie as she called herself had become predictable over the centuries. He passed the endless shelves of hourglasses, and stopped by a particularly ornate cabinet. 'Perhaps' he thought to himself one of the big players had changed. Bones rattled as a skeletal hand tapped on an ornate hourglass labeled **Nicholas Flamel**. Humans were so interesting. He watched the hourglass become so close to being empty, but miraculously sand would appear out of nowhere in the top half. 'I can wait' Death thought to himself with a smile. He glanced at **Harry Potter'**s hourglass and paused. The glass had become warped and tubelike, it was so twisted you could no longer tell if sand was going up or down. Death said in a solemn, deep voice, "NOW THIS IS JUST ANNOYING."

He looked around for another hourglass, one of his favourites. Sometimes this one was divided into separate hourglasses, it was akin to collecting a set. In his alternate realities he always completed the set, one way or another. When it was whole it was labelled **Tom Riddle**. A skeletal raven cawed at him with a chiding expression. Death said, "I KNOW I CANNOT INTERFERE, IT IS JUST IRRITATING."

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December 31, 1926

_Wool's Orphanage, London_

Mrs. Cole let out an exasperated sigh, a baby left on the doorstep, another mouth to feed. She put the emerald-eyed babe in the crib beside Tom Riddle. She wore a displeased expression and thought '_That poor lass died today… well, that is what sinful living does to you. Let's hope these two will be adopted. She could tell they would grow to be good-looking young lads.'_

She tilted her head as she looked at the green eyed boy._ 'A name'_ she thought. She glanced at a newspaper. _'There we go. How about the first male name I find... Harry… Next for the last name something good and English.'_ She paused her musings and she looked at the boy and noticed how dark his hair was. '_Black as midnight',_ she thought. She smiled which was rare at the newly named, Harry Black. She looked at the other child with derision. The troubled, young woman had certainly been adamant about the other child's name. Dreadful name, that it was. However, Mrs. Cole was not exactly creative and she could care less. She scribbled their names on the ledger and let the other staff tend to the babes.

In her rush, Mrs. Cole did not notice how quiet the babies were. Or the fact they were looking at each other very intently.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**

**I do not own anything written by J.K. Rowling or Sir Terry Pratchett.**

**-All slang and colloquialisms may be and are probably wrong. Grammar too. If it is annoying. I am sorry, correct me please.**

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In a unnamed village in the mountains of Europe.

This is must be what it feels like to fly… Valleys and mountains were spread before her, dotted with villages and towns.

"Get back here you wee lass! I have nay finished your lessons!" Mama Woodside bellowed.

"If you weren't sooo old, maybe I wouldn't have ta wait."

Beth smiled and pushed her black hair back into a semblance of order, she had known Mama would find her. '_No one escapes the sights of Mama Woodside_.' It was uncanny, Mama was always up to date with every one of her villagers. Beth looked at Elder Woodside, a plump jovial-looking woman.

She shivered. From the cold. Of course.

Underneath that smile was a will strong and unyielding as the mountain they lived on. Beth was convinced Mama could get someone to take out his own heart and -he- would think it was his idea. Of course, Mama Woodside would never do that.

'Mama's lessons. Hmmph, More like special little torture sessions.' When Beth would ask Mama to teach her some wyrdi magic, Mama would find something for her to do. She recalled her first lesson in from Mama Woodside.

Flashback

A small determined little girl looked at the list, it was her first day and first lesson as an apprentice wydri, and she was going to try her best. She was first to gather enough fallen feathers fill a sack, tend to Mama's goats, deliver some medicine, and run to the river for some fresh river water, and ten other similarly boring things. She rolled her eyes.

'This stupid', she sighed, she stuffed a feather into bag.

"I'm never ta learn wydri ways, huh." She frowned a robin, "Stop it. Not like you need these."

-cheep- -cheep- went the robin

"Hmpph! Great, a mocking-bird."

Almost crawling up to the house at the end of the day she walked wearily up to Mama, who was sitting in her usual chair.

Beth pouted and batted her little grey eyes at Mama, "Eldah Woodside, wha did I learn today? - Was it to be kinder ta animals?- Am I supposed ta remember the people I delivered potions too? - That river didn't look particularly cle.."

Mama chortled, "Cute!" She tapped Beth on the nose.

"Dearie, you are lookin at a -Master- of man-ipulling."

"….You mean manipulation."

"Go to bed lass." Mama squinted at her, "Run, lass. I might just get up."

"Ack!"

There was a sound of little feet, pitter pattering away quickly.

"Just leave the feathers on the table. Child!"

This is another test, Beth sulked in her bed. I want answers now. Beth yawned…'Yep, an... swers…'

Mama was already at her rocking chair and drinking some coffee out of a chipped mug. Beth gathered her wits and phrased her words, "I wanna know how the tasks I did yesterday relate ta learning our ways of magic." Mama sipped a bit of coffee.

With a grin, Mama replied, "Those were my chores. lassie"

"When will I learn magic?" She frowned sternly, "I didn't learn anything!"

Mama pinched her cheek, "This'll make ya feel better… it woulda taken me a week to do those! You are quick!"

"MAMA!"

"It was … a surprise! You actually finished them. So…what ave we learned!"

_...Silence…_

"Hmmph, alright. First lesson. Question everything. You shoulda questioned me, but you didnt cause I'm older and wiser."

"Hey!"

"Step two, is to question your own questions. Think!"

Mama began to mumble ".…til you can see true… Not all zappy -ZAP- and light shows… and … staffs?."

"I just want…" Beth paused. "…I know, It's just."

Mama peered down at her solemnly. "It's nay too late to go home."

"No, I need to be here."

"This path will not be easy…Some fail", Woodside smiled behind her tea cup.

Beth strongly believed that Mama had just made that little speech up in order to obtain some free labour. However, nothing, nothing, this old lady could say or do would stop her from becoming an Elder wydri. She felt it in her bones.

End Flashback

Years of lessons and hard work tempered Beth into a patient and understanding woman. Watching Mama Woodside tend to her people made her understand the true nature of being a wydri. There were two sides to it. The wydri would keep the village safe, tend to their deaths, heal the very sick, and watch the people. Healer, sentinel, shepherd, these were the parts of wydri that muggles saw. Beth learned about magical and non-magical herbs and cures that people could mistake for medicine.

She always cringed when she remembered the first time she met Death. He was surprising, not exactly what she expected. Death was imposing, but he had a limited sense of humour, and a penchant for games. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest while watching Mama Woodside gamble for someone who needed to live just a few years longer. The price would be paid, but wydri have long lives. A few years here and there sparingly were not going to do any harm. There were boring days too, of just visiting the villagers, or working in a small workshop near the house. In these times wydri took up a profession. Moore would be able to survive if she left the village, she was an able cook, tailor, and the best shepherd.

Behind the guise of two peaceful country folk, there was a part of them that they had to hide, Mama Woodside would teach Beth Old magic that could bend reality in small ways. She learned about the other dimensions and the creatures that lived within. Woodside would whisper to her about ancient times and the few wydri that had fallen into madness disturbing nature's plans. The mind was an important and powerful tool, and the wydri had to have perfect control of their thoughts. One piece of magic unique to them was called mind-turning.

The most difficult bit of mind-turning was becoming Unseen. To wield will and focus Old magic so that everything bended around her. She could go unnoticed and people would automatically move out of her way. Woodside warned her if you stayed Unseen too long you could get stuck there and pushed into another dimension. Her 'lessons' consisted of standing absolutely still and concentrating on believing she was not there.

8 o' clock in the morning.

_'I am the rosebush, I am the wall, You cannot see me,'_ Beth would repeat.

Noon

'_Was that speck on the porch always there? It looks good.'_

6 o'clock in the evening.

_'I am the rosebush, I am…this is boring.'_

8 o'clock at night.

_'I am the rosebush, I am the wall…was she always there?'_

"Mama… I can see you.", chimed Beth.

"Shush lass, I'm being Unseen."

"No one can hear you, but me."

"They can hear -you- lassie, now hush before I make you face the wall." Mama took another bite of a sandwich.

It was years before she had the concentration to focus Old magic.

At seventeen she was instructed on seeing the reality and being able to the manipulate it. Beth loved it and would delight in trying to sneak up to Mama and scare her. She always failed, but it was fun.

She felt that same excitement today, Beth Moore took in the vast view of valleys and hills and listened for the whispers that are carried on the wind. She turned and smiled at the sight of Mama Woodside hiking up her skirt and trotting up the cliff like a gazelle. '_That woman is unstoppable'_. Today was her last lesson, last week she had met Death. This lesson was completely new to her and extremely dangerous. She was going to be taught Drifting.

Elder Woodside yelled, "We won't be able to do the lesson out here. Follow me, child." The Elder hiked up her skirts once more and the two began the short journey to Mama Woodside's house.

Beth laughed amiably, "Nice legs, hmmm, aren't ya visiting the Mr. Farthing tomorrow"

"Too old for this kind of jibber jabber. Put on some shoes for Small God's sake." Trudging closer to the house, they could see a bit of it through the dense branches.

"Remember something important about you… that always helps" murmured Mama Woodside as they came close to the house. "Light touches... and we only suggest we never delve deep."

"No muggles or sorcerers", Beth said.

The chubby woman opened the hatch to a hole in the ground that was covered with blankets.

"What is the first rule?" Woodside fixed her piercing eyes on Beth filling her with dread_ 'Will I ever become like that? And would it be a good thing?'_

Beth solemnly repeated words that had been drilled into her head. "Don't lose yourself. The body is not yours. Always come back."

The Elder clasped hands with Beth jumped into the hole. They sat down and got into a comfortable positions. Woodside nodded to Beth, she looked at the sky and the two witches closed their eyes. Their breath stilled and to a passerby it would look like they were dead. In reality, teacher and student called out to the living creatures around them. They found a pair of birds and asked politely to come over and if they would carry their minds. The birds chirped in agreement. Soon Beth was soaring on the wind. The sensation of flying was glorious and she felt like she would never be alone.

'_Food! Squirmy things, Squirmy things._' she heard the bird think. Her mind and the bird's were so close, she had to remind herself of the bakery and Woodside. Then Beth would nudge Chirp in one direction. (Birds don't need names) Chirp would follow the suggestion, because it wanted to. It did not matter much to the animal and Chirp had learned wydri always pay them for their services. Elder Woodside flew around Beth/Chirp and flew down to unite with her body. Beth should follow. She floated lower and spotted a struggling worm on the grass. _'Squirmy, squirmy.'_ Her robin swept down and snatched the worm, she thought to herself. '_This is not so hard, I wonder -Food Food! Squirmy!- what is all the fuss is about. Hmm that -branch- looks nice. -chirp- -chirp-'_ Elder Woodside captured Beth or Chirp in her hands and placed the robin on Beth. She felt she was tugged out of water and gasped for air. Beth tried to shake off the slimy gritty taste of the worm.

They returned to the house in silence. When they entered the Elder turned to her. "Could have become that bird. How did you stop?"

"It was like my body pulled me in." Beth's face flushed red. Her fingers played with the edge of her shirt.

"The body doesn't really like Drifting."

Mama Woodside looked away from her. "When you can wear midnight. It will be time for ya to leave, my dear lass"

Beth only nodded and tried to keep calm as she realized the closest person to her in the world was sending her away. Logically, she knew a village has no need of two wydri.

A few months past and Beth had mastered Borrowing. She exchanged farewells with the villagers and packed her few possessions. A treasured pack of cards, two shirts, and two pants. A small cap for travelling, because a woman cannot travel alone. For many years before, she was Mr. Moore a travelling tailor and sometimes an army cook. She constructed shambles and saw glimpses of girls like her. She would find them, test them, and then send them to villages with an Elder like Woodside.

The first test was the most important.

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**January 1, 1926**

"Hushabye, baby. Hushabye brat, let a lady sleep." whispered Mrs. Cole.

She was tired, "Hellions, they must have timed it for Marsha's absence."

She placed Tom, who had been fussing all day in the crib beside the crying Harry.

Promptly at 10 o' clock in the morning there was a knock on the front door. Mrs. Cole groaned. _'If this is another baby in a blanket, someone is going to pay.'_

She opened the door and there was a tall, angular man stood in front of her. Mrs. Cole straightened her frock and pushed her hair back. Mrs. Cole felt her heart flutter for the first time in years. She felt light-headed.

The man said with a slight accent, "Greetings, may I step in? I'll only take a bit of your time."

When she realized he was talking to her, she shuffled to the side and let him in. She took in his measure. _'Clothes well-made, but simple clothes that a man could work in. He smells like freshly baked bread? I wonder if he wants to adopt a child.'_ The man had a gentle smile on his face and suddenly she felt like she had known him for years.

"Come in, come in."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"There is a bottle of gin I've been saving. Let me, let me pour you a drink." Mrs. Cole tittered and then paused, "Wait, blimey! this is embarrassing, I forgot your name."

"It's Mr. Moore," uttered the man smoothly, "I have come for my sons."

Mrs. Cole froze and turned to look at the man, "Which one of my angels are yours, sir?"

"Both black hair, one with green eyes, the others black?"

Mrs. Cole began twirling a bit of her gray hair on a finger.

"You know sir…I have never seen children of that description before. Perhaps -something- can refresh my memory?"

Beth considered her options, she had a pretty good idea of what Mrs. Cole was thinking. She scolded herself. She was supposed to be mind-turning a likeable fellow not an –attractive- man. People see what they want, hmm. Her gray eyes pierced though Mrs. Cole to see Cole's true self. ….she was repulsed by what she saw. The blind prejudice hidden under the guise of 'Christian' morals. A greedy heart and a thoughtless woman. She was tempted to raise the intensity of the mind-turn that she had done to make Cole into a blubbering mess. A moral struggle.

Mrs. Cole turned around and went to the nursery commencing her duties, no Mr. Moore had ever arrived. Beth was good at becoming Unseen. She listened carefully and followed the cries of a babe to the nursery.

Beth let reality spring back to normal and appeared silently. She took a moment to look at the children, oh! They were beautiful. Beth had helped in the raising of many children, tending to their wounds, teaching them small lessons. She had never seen such intelligent eyes. The Elder Moore smiled at the children_, 'I never found my other half. I could have had children like these'_ , she thought wistfully _'I can take a new title, Mother._' She cradled one boy on each arm and spun around, in her musing she did not notice three little kids were staring at her.

She began to reach out to twist their memory to that of a... -NO-

_'No, no, no… it is one thing to mind-turn an adult, but never a child.'_

On instinct she made herself Unseen. She grasped them tightly and prepared herself for reality to strike at her. '_The children!'_ she thought. Something unusual happened. In theory a living thing that was held by an Unseen wydri would be flung away from her with great force.

A tiny hand bumped her, Harry was playing with the tie she wore and Tom seemed adamant to play with it as well. _'It is not the time for thinking. Thank you, Small Gods.'_ The thin woman rushed out of the orphanage, and found a secluded corner where she popped back into reality. This time with two quiet passengers. Beth Moore walked towards a small but pleasant looking shop and entered an attic.

Beth beamed down at the little children, "Hullo, Harry. Tom." She asked them. "What'll we do today?"

"What a combination you will be." Beth said as she looked at Harry. She said to them, "Well I know little of you now, and some of what you'll be. Let me try ta see ya."

Beth turned at Harry through true eyes. "That's a bright soul. What's the little black spot?" Harry glared at her.

She looked more carefully. A whirling sphere was in the centre of his body glimmering and changing colours. A tiny tendril reached out from the sphere and brushed her cheek. It felt like a tiny electric shock. She backed up and rubbed her cheek.

"How should wizards work?", she sighed. "I shoulda planned better."

"At least you are here, right!" she tickled Tom. "…Should we look at you too?"

When she looked deeply in Tom's eyes with her true eyes, Beth turned away quickly, and Tom started crying. When he started Harry followed and wails filled the small room.

"It's okay, it is okay, this is…every sorcerer must be different."

Beth bustled about going through the motions of putting the children to sleep. She sat in a rocking chair and wondered if she had been talking to Tom, or convincing herself.

Worry began to settle in her mind. '_How do you raise powerful children, how do you guide someone who is not wydri?'_ Beth thought.

Her thoughts drifted to Elder Woodside. Elder Woodside.

Everyone called her Mama, because they had grown to love her. She never lied about the important stuff. Elder Woodside knew almost everything about being wydri. Those two were tied to wydri, but not complete wydri. It occurred to her that she might not be able to teach Tom, and if they were as powerful as she saw… She would have to leave the muggle world eventually. '_At least I can start ta wear black without pretending to be a widow_.' Beth thought, '_I wonder if the pointed hat is a required thing_.'

In order to be the guardian they needed, she would have to understand the sorcerers. Or Witches and Wizards. She would have to cast magic and deceive the eyes of wizards.

Beth carefully locked the door. She closed her eyes, and searched for something that felt like Harry. A couple streets down, was a shop she had passed many times. Beth believed strongly in words. 'Leaky Cauldron' did not inspire efficiency or an aptitude for any kind of cauldron based potion or stew.

Beth followed a man into the dimly lit bar.

"May I get you something, Miss?"

"Fiddlesticks!"

Beth started, she had sworn she had turn herself Unseen. She turned around quickly and found herself face to face with a young woman. She sighed in relief and walked around for a couple of hours. The environment was charming, however people are the reality she would use true eyes on every witch and wizard she saw.

When she arrived home, Tom and Harry were peacefully snoozing. There was a lot to think about.

She gazed at the boys. If they were to enter magical society? Would they have a better life?

She rose early and took out a small smooth stone. This one was Elder Woodside's and like the wydri' before her. She added what memories she could. She held it in her hands and searched. Ahh… She smirked '_These ones can certainly keep my secrets.'_ Strength through loyalty. How fitting.

Three days later.

"Hello, I need to speak to.." Beth looked at him briefly, "a bookskeeper?"

"Your key…" he resumed his calculations. Gesturing at another goblin.

Beth smiled cheerily. "Yes I need to speak to… –you-."

The goblin did not look up. "You may open an account with a minimum deposit of 50 galleons. To convert money, follow him, otherwise take your business out of here." Ragnok gestured at the next person in line.

Beth stood still, Lord Pollux Black walked around her. He dropped a key into the goblin's hand. "The Black Family Vault." Beth made a funny face at Lord Black.

Beth winked at Griphook, and chuckled to herself. The goblin looked confused, she set a small crystal with swirling etchings on the desk. Griphook touched the stone, and muttered to himself and glared at her. "Ragnorak will take you…Mr. Black". Beth watched Lord Black be escorted down a hall.

She gestured at the crystal "I made it fancy for you."

Griphook gestured to her covertly, she picked up a small suitcase and followed. When they had walked long enough. "Greetings, Wanderer or are you an Elder?" he asked.

"Elder Moore. I'm sorry bout the tricks… I just. Can -not- be seen yet. Your our last link to this world." She peered around at the rooms with curiosity. "In the long run, I believe this'll be… an agreeable situation for both of us." Beth smiled tentatively and straightened her tie.

"State your business."

"Griphook, correct?" Griphook eyed her warily, "You are familiar with us?." He nodded.

Beth paused and stated "We only come here when we must."

"Show me what you found. "

Beth nodded, I hope this doesn't hurt…here we go. Beth placed the crystal in his hands and held them there. She softly mind-turned the memory of an Elder who defied the her ancestors and revealed herself to a sorcerer. She was so intrigued that she delved deep into sorcery. The wydri caused the deaths of too many and the Elders of the time had caught her and imprisoned her. In the memory, the wydri sorceress gave an important object she crafted to the goblin king on her deathbed.

Griphook tensed and shook his head, "You have come to collect." Beth hmmed in agreement. "Follow me."

On her way walking out of the vaults Beth clasped the piece of wood in her hand. It had been permanently altered to force Old magic into sorcery. She held the wand and felt a strange warmth and euphoric feeling.

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Five years later

"Tom! Harry! It's that time again! Get down here. Right. this. minute." yelled Beth

Opposite to him rummaging through a chest, was the one person he, well the only person, he would miss if they were…well he wasn't, Harry was the only one he could be himself with. He was his and no others.

This was their room, littered with home-made action figures and books. It was painted a soothing blue colour and there were pictures of two boys moving inside a frame. Two babies, two toddlers, never was one without the other.

Tom felt a twinge of annoyance drift to him through their bond. Tom scoffed. Harry turned to glare at Tom. Which was not effective from the cute kid with mussed up hair and glowing green eyes.

Tom smirked from behind his book, "I do not understand how you can stand these." He lied as he carefully hid a book under the bed. "You get training too." Harry said softly he was holding a small blue crystal. Tom recognized it as the one he got from the beach. Harry placed the crystal in Tom's hand and his hand over Tom's. Images of experiencing Unseen and Drifting flitted through his mind. Then an image of him and Tom older in robes, they were using wands to do something. Then the image ended.

"Did mother give you that?" Tom put his book down. He peered at Harry with interest. "Or did you take it?"

"You are welcome." Tom sat up. How sadistic, Tom partly admired Beth's attempt to motivate him. Dangling a carrot in front of him…like he was an animal. His fists clenched.

-Thud- A book hit the wall next to Harry.

"Accident!" Harry frowned and gestured at a book. It floated and bumped Tom's head gently.

"I said it was an accident." Tom had learned that Harry's signals. "I didn't!"

"Get dressed and march your tiny little selves down here!" Beth brushed her hair. Over the years she had developed traits…one of them was vanity and the other avarice. She had a lucrative profession and had managed to mind-turn Ministry officials into discovering fictitious pureblood family. Beth had picked Morroth because the boys would be able to choose either path, she did not mind. She adjusted a silver necklace, she still did not know how Tom acquired it. The mirror said, "That blue is very nice on you, dear."

"Alright, Harry hold my hand. You too Tom." Tom reluctantly grasped her hand. He wasn't a baby. Tom clasped her hand, "Why do we go so far?"

Beth smiled and said, "So even the most powerful wizards will not find out our secrets." Tom smirked. Bethany Morroth had her uses.

With little fuss, they suddenly were gone with not a sound. It was like folding reality and stepping onto another place.

Suddenly they appeared out of the shadows at a hut in the middle of the forest. Beth led them to an old crumbling wall. "Do remember ta follow Harry this time."

"I thought today was sorcery, you promised." Tom scowled. "Did I?"

"You did." lied the small Harry. "Fiddlesticks."

"We can practice…sensing. Right, sensing magic."

"Now go over there and sit." said Beth. Tom wondered if this was another wydri trick. He had come to despise them.

"Hmm let me think. Which wydri ta pick." she muttered to herself. Tom was watching the wind blow Harry's hair around. It puzzled him that it's disarray only added to his charm. "Okay prepare yourself."

Beth sneaked a hand into her pocket. Tom was convinced that her pocket had some sort of expanding magic on it. It fit so many things she 'acquired'. It was an old habit, from her penniless days. Beth signalled them.

Tom didn't feel anything. "Try again, Mother." He reached and through the bond to Harry he felt elation and happiness. Like Harry was floating on air from the inside. Harry slumped for a bit. Tom leapt to his feet and shook Harry. He turned to Beth, and glared at her.

"Was that Old magic?" murmured Harry. Beth nodded, Harry said "It feels wild, but calm." Tom looked at Beth suspiciously. He said, "Was this a test?"

She drew herself up and said, "The first test. That is a memory of a wydri who wielded Old magic like a sword." Tom became silent. "I want to feel it, sorcery. -Now-." He put magic in the last word. It was not fair Harry had magic he didn't, so he would be the greatest sorcerer there ever was.

Beth sighed, "Will you ever say please?" Tom twitched, "Please."

First was a bright glow inside that coiled around tendrils stretching through the air. A core like the sun and magic that strikes like lightning. It was both disturbing for Tom, and interesting. To meditate and remember the exercise, the memory held and shifted in power. From tiny sparks to great bolts. Time past and after an hour Beth said, "That is a powerful Light wizard, but do not be fooled by their name." How interesting, it felt sorta like a hot sun and Tom knew he would recognize it if crossed. Beth chuckled Harry had fallen asleep beside him.

Tom thought Harry must of lost interest. "Prepare yourself." A heady rush of swirling power a liquid feeling that would rise into smoke filled him. When the smoke would strike out and return. To Tom's surprise he felt a deep sense of satisfaction and pleasure. It was gone immediately. She had only held it for a minute. "That was a very powerful memory of a Lord of Darkness." '_Lord of_ Darkness..._ I like the sound of that.' _

Beth looked at Tom carefully, she considered the wisdom of what she had done. A shadow in the corner of the forest laughed. "IT WILL BEGIN, AGAIN." Tom craved for the feeling of dark power, but peered over at the dozing Harry. Soothed by the peaceful feeling coming from Harry, Tom lay down beside his brother... He could wait.

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More Harry and Tom next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note**

**Important stuff**

**Wydri - exclusively women blessed with Old Magic**

**Old Magic - Wandless, wilder form of magic.**

**Sorcery - The magic split into Light, Neutral, Dark by sorcerers or modern time witches and wizards for the sake of this story making a bit of sense.**

**Memory stone - A crystal or small stone that has been imbued with the memory or memories of wydri women. Unremarkable looking to protect them in witch hunts. A wydri can mind-turn her memory into a stone, and pass it on to her legacy - legacy being the young wydri she trains. The most knowledgeable wydri could horde many memory stones. Part of the reasoning behind their size.**

**I hope that helps, let me know if you think I should post more definitions or place this in the first chapter.**

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'Something else is here.' Harry whispered in his mind.

Harry kept seeing a small flash of light out of the corner of his eye. It was extremely distracting for a while. Then it became just plain annoying. Today he was sitting in the forest practicing wydri magic. Tom was practicing wizarding magic with Beth. The wand she had allowed her to demonstrate the same magic as a competent wizard. However, she was ignorant to the names and motions that went with the spells. She had a couple years before Tom and Harry had matured enough to handle magic. Beth used that time to learn as much as she could. She could tutor Tom in the basics now, but without using silent and wantless magic the rest of wizardry was a mystery to her. The distinctions between wydri and wizard, became clearer over the years. Wydri magic was called on by a person, who in turn used the power of the mind to wield it. Beth had discovered that wizardry came from inside the person's body, making it an entirely different magic. Tom had very strong magic, other than that normal boy. Harry reminded himself, a normal boy with above extraordinary intelligence, ambition, and a limited range of feelings.

The reason that he and Harry were adopted together, was still a mystery to his mother. Harry knew she would never admit that. Maybe to follow fate's design? Harry had somehow acquired the skill to use wydri and wizardry. He found wydri magic easier to call on.

Today he was Drifting with a wolf. It was a surreal moment, when the large white wolf had kneeled at his lying body and allowed his self to drift into the wolves. '_Food. Smell. Hunt.'_ Harry sighed, there was always those problems with the carnivores. The first time he drifted with a wild cat and he acquired a lingering hunger for live mice. That hunger lasted for four days in which everything tasted wrong. Harry gently nudged the wolves mind away from a deer and it's sweet smells. The mind rebelled for a moment, but he whispered a promise of top quality meat, later on.

There was a different sound, a tiny field mouse was scampering through the grasses. Harry/Wolf watched and in a few seconds the mouse was snatched up by a small hawk. With a feeling of kinship flowing through him, Harry thanked the wolf. He also detailed where and when he would leave the meat for the wolf. With nature's blessings he happily detached himself from the wolf and settled in the hawk's mind. It was different, creatures of the air were exciting, not to say wolves weren't. They were explorers, travellers, Harry could nudge them to do dives or go higher.

Flying was his favourite. There was nothing that compared to feeling the pure freedom of air and soaring to the highest heights. Years of training with Beth had paid off. He remembered how upset Tom had been when he realized there were many things only Harry could do. Beth never explained it why he had wydri magic, he thought she did not have an answer.

There was that flash of light again below him. He surveyed the clearing where his body lay awaiting his return. Harry quickly returned to his body. It would be horrible to be stuck without a body. Harry sat up.

"Hello?" whispered Harry, "Hello?" The sound of bell-like laughter from far away. The light became a dark hole that was glowing.

He felt the air grow colder around him, Harry judged that to be a bad sign. The opening disappeared and a woman with disturbingly perfect features appeared before him. "What do you want?" Harry grasped his new wand tightly.

"Harry", she said, "I'm a friend of your mother's"

Harry shakes his head and pointed his wand carefully at her. "I have never heard of you."

"Oh, Harry lower the wand. Don't scowl it is very rude."

His green eyes only narrowed as his mind was flipping through possible outcomes. He had never met a creature from another dimension before. However everything he heard was usually not very 'nice'. Was he supposed to say. 'Go back from whence you came?' Mother had told him rituals and words had power.

Harry tried to sense the woman, but it was as if there was nothing there. Not even physical matter. That was more troubling. To add on top of that, though this woman adopted a carefree attitude, she was gazing at him. In a similar fashion that Tom to things he wanted or waited for. A sort of smug satisfaction. Harry was doubting the power of words would be good enough.

The hole disappeared with a pop and the woman carefully sat in a non-threatening manner. She said lightly, "Your birthmother knew me, I can tell you all about her. I knew of her as Lily. What a pretty name don't you think? She knew me as Marie."

Harry stayed standing, a wolf sleeping with the sheep is still a wolf. It's nature does not change, and neither should he allow her any advantage.

"Why have I never heard of you?" Harry paused and lowered his wand, "Mother has told me dozens of tales of wydri and wizards. If she knew of my ancestry she would have told me."

Marie smiled, "She probably wanted to protect you."

"From you?"

The sound of tinkling laughter filled the field, "No no no, from your past."

"What past?" Harry asked, he hoped for a longer answer. Stalling basically. Harry and Tom had perfected the art of annoying or alerting each other through emotions. However never from this far. With a small prayer to the Small Gods, 'hey it couldn't hurt.' He pushed an emotion towards Tom that he hoped he wouldn't have to again. Terror. He had to make the danger obvious.

Luckily this creature, it was doubtful she was human, liked to talk, "Hmm, well I guess your past is also future. Then it gets a bit technical. However this time I think I worked out the kinks in the wobbly wobbly time part. This is all very exciting." This Marie looked exceptionally pleased with herself.

"Harry!" called two voices both filled with alarm.

Beth said in a steady voice, "You were very right to call Tom, Harry." A good wydri is sensible, seldom heroes. Except when necessary. He watched his mother turn to Marie with a look he had never seen before.

"You have broken a lot of rules by coming here 'Marie'," said Beth. Beth attempted a smile, "It is not good manners to visit without at least a fire call."

Marie had looked stately and unapproachable before, but now she looked angry. The sort of anger that burns with a cold fire.

"I thought wydri kept their large noses out of other people's affairs."

Beth made a small gesture for the boys to leave. "Really? Whatever you call yourself. The tales really do describe you perfectly. A girl who doesn't know how to stop. A girl who is alone."

Marie's eyes flashed, "Whose fault is that..YOU stop." She waved her hand at them and the boys were frozen in time. Caught in the middle of sneaking out of the clearing. It was akin to the petrification spell in wizadry.

"We know whose fault that is." Marie said softly.

Beth smiled and gave a false laugh, "Yours! For you were the exception too. Just like Harry, so they made excuses." Behind her she was making strange gestures. Harry could feel himself slowly being thawed.

Marie frowned and in a second. Beth was pinned to a tree, her thin angular neck underneath Marie's grasp. At this point Harry could free himself, and he did so.

Beth whispered something softly. It must have been something very important, Marie's eyes glinted. With a cruel smile, Marie shaped her nails into knifelike tips. Harry didn't like where this was going, he was given an important decision. In that split second, he chose the one that had more chance of success. He started working on freeing Tom.

Harry heard Beth scream once and very raspy, but he didn' turn around. Harry was certain he didn't want to see what death awaited the person who had loved him from a child. He certainly heard it the ripping of flesh and clothing. The time that the attack had happened seemed longer for him not looking.

Tom pulled at his arm, it forced his head to turn. To his relief Beth was not dead. She was bleeding profusely all over her body, but she was alive. He could tell. Should he flee? No. He wouldn't get far by his estimation. Tom had disappeared it seemed.

He said carefully, "I thought you were a friend."

"Oh, I did say I was a friend of your mother's didn't I? Too bad she isn't really your mother. How cute that she calls your little unit, the Morroth family." The woman called Marie stood unaffected, and completely spotless over Beth's barely conscious body.

Harry wouldn't bother to ask if she had a heart, or what she was, or even to explain what the hell was going on. The time for stalling had ended, because it looked like his mother was dying. "What did you do to Beth?"

Marie put on a small frown. "I did something important, she just poked me to hurry it up a little. I think you will like it. She's going to fix you."

"I wasn't aware I was broken." Harry said. He creeped closer, maybe he could just touch Beth. That might be enough to escape. Damn.

Marie used their new distance to gaze at his head with disturbing interest. One delicate finger touched his lightning scar. "Don't you feel it Harry? Something wrong?" She shook her head, "No matter, I will see you in three years." She looked like she was fading into nothing.

Harry yelled after her, "What did you do to MY mother?"

A tinkling voice replied, "She will fix that little Dark problem of yours within three years, or she will die. It is very simple and a little painful….I will be watching. Oh! her death…it will be painful too."

Harry quickly went to Beth, he wiped away a little of her blood. It revealed very crude symbols carved on her arms, legs, chest, and head. They looked ancient, and a little familiar. Marie must of done it in a rush. Beth was nearly gone. He whispered, "It'll be okay." Harry didn't know if it was to her or himself.

"We should get her back home." Tom stated from behind him. Harry nodded and together they faded back to the plain cottage they lived in. They bandaged her and kept her conscious. Harry had picked up a lot of wydri healing, but he didn't seem to be able to fully heal the wounds. When conscious Beth was exhausted, but she detailed the memory stones she had used to create their identity. She told them the location of the bank key. Harry thought to himself that these were the actions of someone who knows their time is coming. She drifted into a sleep that lasted about four days.

To his relief, it was not bad as true Death. But it may be something worse. Every week on the third day, like a sadistic way to remind Beth of Marie's ultimatum. The scars would appear freshly cut when she woke. She laughed it off and said something like, maybe it was time for her to don 'white not midnight.' Attempting to make a joke of it.

Beth was a good mother. He had realized at eleven years old that Beth was not as powerful as him. Maybe equal to Tom. The unnatural woman felt dangerous and more powerful then anything. Still he was filled with a sense of guilt. His mind was filled with questions that he did not want the answers to. For now they all could play pretend. That this never happened, and they could go back to schedule. He worried about what would happen when he left for Hogwarts. He was determined there was an answer to the three year sentence.

One day he approached Tom. "Have you seen the runes on Beth. You see I don't think they are really ancient?"

Tom looked at him curiously. Harry continued and lied, "She threatened to kill me, and mother in three years." Partially true. Except he was going to get -fixed-. Whatever that meant it did not sound good. "The runes or symbols look a little like wydri ones. There is a difference, they are mixed with wizardry blood magic."

Harry knew he had caught Tom's attention, whose desire to learn was only rivalled by his survival instincts.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "We can't do anything about it then, we aren't even first years, yet. Where in the world have you seen -wydri- runes"

Harry pulled a small ornate crystal from his pocket and placed it on the table. With a dramatic thud. "Memories. Enough to tell us all about the runes." He glanced around furtively. "Beth can't figure the runes out, and I know why."

"I know." asked Tom, "The wizardry part. She isn't aces at that."

Harry said, "We have three years to learn about it." Harry knew they were going to leave for Hogwarts very soon, and he didn't want to take any chances. There was a good chance Tom would change. Different environment, different people. This is a point in time he just needed to get him to agree to help. For all their sakes.

Tom remained aloof, "What about the wydri part?" Turning dark black eyes to examine his nails.

Harry shook his head, "Think about it." He pointed at the crystal. "All wydri have some of those. We just need more."

"With wydri magic…" Harry paused, "Imagine what will happen if we use wizadry. If we combined them into something new and powerful. At the same time we can save mother." Harry knew he had him. Harry had watched when Tom ordered rats to eat each other. He observed when Tom manipulated pureblood children into gifting him with relics or books. He did nothing when Tom had injured with a flying rock Mary Stibbons. Harry saw with true eyes.…Strange, he did not mind any of it.

They had limited time window according to Harry. Harry had become paranoid he watched out of the corner of his eyes. Constantly searching for that flash of light. His mother did not notice, Beth was doing her own preparations, she was pleased that Harry was interested in wydri ways. When she was strong enough she would use a blot of ink in a water bowl to chat up old friends. It would make it easy for them to search for the memory rocks for the runes. Tom kept tabs on names and references to locations. Harry had carefully copied the runes on Beth and their locations in a notebook.

Harry had hundreds of memories to sort through, it turned out that **all** Elder wydri had their own way of scrawling whatever symbols they used. While it sounds silly, it was rather clever. Keeping other wydri from doing magic they shouldn't and passing it on to the correct legacy. Legacy would be an apprentice like Beth was to Woodside. Harry was to Beth Moore.

It was really frustrating. While he was trying to complete that part of the puzzle Tom was working on it too. Using friends connections to obtain books on blood magic and rituals. It had become quiet in the house. Unless Beth was gossiping the fervent scratching of a quill to paper could be heard from Harry's room. Soon it would be their birthday, and they would enter into a new adventure. He hoped that maybe they could figure it out by then.

On one particularly cruel Wednesday he woke up to hear screams from down the hall. He rushed down the corridor and flung open the door. Beth was freshly cut up and there was a very bright and ornate crystal on the floor. The crystal was absolutely perfect in the clarity of it and cut, gold designs were curled around it. Harry thought if he listened closely he could hear the tinkling of bell-like laughter. It was as if Marie was mocking them. Later when he and Tom were in the forest, Harry threw the crystal in the air and then shattered it with magic. He would let Marie know what he felt about the gift. Tom raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

He assumed it was one of those things that went under the category.

Don't piss off the Morroth brothers.

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I am a beginner at writing. That! Is my excuse for everything. I do like to hear where I went wrong or right.


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